Part 15: Into the belly of the Black Sheep - Gate House

Ashland Daily Tidings (Ashland, OR — Wayback)

2015-07-29

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By Lyda Woods December 29. 2014 3:57PM Part 15: Into the belly of the Black Sheep Lyda Woods Part 15 of the fictionalized adventures of two sisters, Sherry and Dawn, one Medford-bred, the other Ashland-loving, and their adventures across the Rogue Valley. Find prior chapters at www.dailytidings.com. Druantia, the Celtic light worker, had given me a lead in the form of Kenny Green who was an associate of Jed Nutlinger, one of the kidnappers. Jed was still in jail so I couldn’t talk with him and Kenny appeared to be the best alternative. I’d researched Kenny, who’d performed as a fire dancer in the Ashland Plaza in the summers and worked as an assistant chef at the Black Sheep. He had no presence on mugshots.com and didn’t come up in any arrest records. An Ashland Daily Tidings article reported that he had burned himself last summer in a complex fire dance, charring his left hand. I decided to visit him at work at the Black Sheep. The last time I ventured there, Josh had ordered me a Spotted Dick dessert as a joke. It was a rainy, gray winter Sunday afternoon but inside the Black Sheep, a longtime locals’ hangout on the Ashland Plaza, musicians were bringing out the sun, playing traditional Irish reels and Scottish country dance tunes. I found Kenny decorating a Christmas tree near the roaring fireplace. Kenny was about 25, wiry and tall. He was jigging to the music as he flung tinsel around. After some introductions, and my mentioning Druantia, we got down to the burning questions. “So tell me about Jed. Do you know him very well?” I asked. “Jed, Jed, Jed. I used to know him. He’s wicked smart.” Kenny replied in an Irish accent. “How so?” I asked. “Oh, you know, he bragged that he could create anything if he could find it on Google. How ‘bout a beer, milady?” Kenny waved a waitress over to the table and I bought him a Guinness. “Do you know what he was doing recently? Any projects?” I asked. “He had two big jobs, as far as I know. He asked me to work for him but I couldn’t.” He held up his withered left hand for emphasis. “What were they?” “One was a big plumbing job, under the table, at the Rogue Valley Country Club and the other was some kind of art project for the Rogue Sirens.” “Rogue Sirens?” “Enchantresses who commit political art crimes, avenging the little people.” Kenny chugged his beer. “Wow.” “I thought you knew. You said you knew Druantia …” Kenny stood up quickly. “Of course I knew. I just didn’t know you knew.” I scrambled for a way to repair the damage. “Men are part of it too.” Kenny sat back down. “I guess I’ll see you at a meeting then.” I stood, not wanting to expose my ignorance further. “Next full moon, m’dear.” Kenny said. As I drove home, I thought about the next steps in my investigation. What to do? Should I try googling “how to make a pipe bomb” to see if instructions were readily available online? The thought chilled me. If I did search for something so incendiary, would Homeland Security flag me as a terrorist, whisking me out to a black site to torture me with waterboarding and rectal feedings until I confessed to something horrible and completely made up? Or perhaps I should join the Rogue Sirens and do some undercover sleuthing. I’d have to work with Blue to figure out how best to infiltrate the group. My heart was hammering with excitement and fear. What was I getting myself into? — Next week: Celebrating the wolf moon with the Rogue Sirens. http://www.dailytidings.com/article/20141229/NEWS/141229873 © 2015 Copyright © 1995-2011 Crain Communications Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms of Use Privacy Statement -->